


Of Hunters and Does

by Castel



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Gender-neutral Reader, Hmmmmm angst, Human Sacrifice, Other, Violence, survivors have nicknames like the killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 17:59:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17533499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castel/pseuds/Castel
Summary: Grace is just weakness.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I thank my lovely child Day for the beta reading <3 And I hope that you guys will enjoy that little story I prepared.
> 
> Yyyyyeah it's self-indulgence at its finest

The first time he saw you, you were cowering in a corner of the Coldwind Farm's Rotten Fields. Trembling like a leaf with no clue about what to do there, and you obviously didn't expect him to appear out of the shadows as his bell rang.

You were the first to die after you tried to escape the deadly claws of the Entity in vain.

 

Another time he saw you, you already knew what to do there. Your eyes, cautious and worried, still expressed fear when he chased you, though he could already see the patterns you started to learn to use when fleeing. He noticed how you would try to lose him with every vault and bolt, only to fail miserably or run into him because you still weren't used to looking at your surroundings when running for your life. Yet, when he was looking from afar in his cloak, he noted that you'd look around you while completing your objectives or when you come to help your fellow survivors, how you could spot the slightest shift of the air because of his moves and bolt to safety. He came to the conclusion that you were the kind of person to panic when put under pressure.

And that's how he managed to kill you first.

 

He recognized you even after a while of not confronting each other. Your clothes changed a bit to duller tones, often picking black over color to hide better in the environment. He was surprised to see you weren't the first person to get downed this time - you who were always his first victim. He had grown so used to you being the weakling he may have felt a bit disappointed if not proud of you for improving your survival skills. He still managed to find you soon enough as you tried to reach for the first hooked victim, witnessing the life escape their form and the claws from above take their soul as you were dragged away.

You died to him shortly after, and he knew he deserved that tearful, hateful gaze you shot at him as the claws of death closed in on you.

 

Another time, it took him a while to see you. He figured out you were hiding in the most unexpected places of the map, in these ridiculous small corners that he wouldn't think about checking if he crossed paths with you by accident as he chased someone else. You still bolted the very moment he noticed you, and he noticed with interest the progress you had made in the chases you'd both initiate. The way you used the surroundings was smart, enough that he'd lose your tracks with the way you were confusing him in your unpredictable patterns. He also figured you were learning how to look behind you from time to time to check where he was going and despite the panic, you still managed to control most of your weird shenanigans.

You learned from the best it seemed.

But you still had so much to learn because you still died, even if you were the third victim this time.

 

He understood that now that you learned how to hide, you were still learning how to escape the times you happened to be found. This may be the reason why at times, you were still failing miserably because you'd run into him. Sometimes, he'd take a moment to wonder if you meant it or not, but judging by the yelps that you let out anytime that happened, it seemed not. You didn't expect it either cause every time you noticed his shadow casting over you, your expression was priceless. Especially when you got downed at these embarrassing moments, the dumbfounded look you give him makes his chest bubble with the need to laugh.

You figured that the predator himself was learning from you and your companions, because he too was getting better at mind games. He still was surprised to spot you in unexpected hiding places, but at least it was proof that he was looking more intently to find survivors.

And that trial, you accepted your fate.

 

He knew you were a very altruistic person. Anytime someone was hooked, you'd either come to unhook them or to lure the killer away. You were bold, he understood that a long time ago. You weren't afraid to get hits for the others anymore, or to sacrifice yourself for them. Now that you had more experience, you weren't afraid to run up to him, stop him in his chase by blocking the way, mess with him to try and get him on your ass in order to make him lose track of your friends. The worst is that most often, it worked. You were irresistible. The fire in your eyes, the courage that arbored your scratched face was so bright he couldn't stop himself from turning on you and chasing you down instead. You wanted to fight him ? Well, here he came.

You were often the first or the second person to die, but it wasn't out of ignorance and panic anymore. It was just straight up stupidity.

 

He was harsh. He had to recognize your boldness and huge heart. Many times you traded your life with someone else's. Even at the end of a trial when you could have just ran away, you'd go back in that hell, back to the hook where he'd be standing waiting for your hooked friend to let go and release them. He never saw someone willing to die over and over again just to make sure that their friends would still live, even when you're not sure about your only remaining friend's survival. Going through the pain for someone else, someone that you may or may not know at all... And you'd still sacrifice your own life, no matter how the rusty hook would burn your flesh in your abused shoulder, no matter how you'd resist the claws of the Entity trying to impale you... You'd do it until the end. You'd keep resisting while looking in the distance in hope to feel your friends' presence disappear in their escape. Every time it happened, your face would soften and warm up in relief and it's with a smile you'd give yourself away. He couldn't understand why you thought so little of your worth.

And he hated that.

 

He hated to see your kindness wasn't affected by this fucked up world. That your kindness led you to death when freedom was within your reach. That kindness cost your life every time someone fucked up.

 

You weren't the best survivor, that was a fact. His faculties and many victories against you told him so. He learned so much from you and your friends, nowadays he was so talented that your freedom never stopped being in a tight fit. You were definitively better than before in everything as well, but that boldness and kindness were still your nemeses. At least you learned how to handle chases better. You managed to loop him sometimes for long minutes before he lost interest or before you were downed as you tried to get through a pallet. You still managed to make him scream out in pain when you stunned him twice in a row, or drive him mad with your fucked up running patterns by taking sharp turns from time to time if he got too close to your liking with nothing to vault or loop. Because of that, he'd stop in his track anytime he missed a hit terribly. You were still screeching out of panic when that occurred though. Some things never change, it seemed.

Like the fact that you still threw yourself in the middle of a hunt to give your injured friend a way out. You still rescued them at the most unexpected times, and he had the pleasure to see you escaping more and more trials as time passed by. And while some of your companions were toxic, bloodied little shits, you were still respectful even towards him, he who killed you way too often either by sacrifice or his own hands.

 

Often he wondered what you were doing there with those people. You didn't deserve being here.

 

Then again...

 

Your soul was so strong and full of Hope, there was no way the Entity wouldn't want to feast on it.

 

 

And one night, as the Wraith laid down in his nest looking up at the starry sky, he realized in horror what was happening.

 

You were growing on him. Although he didn't want to see you in his trials, he expected you to appear in a corner and his heart would be torn between the misery of having to kill you, and the joy of meeting you again.

He didn't want to hurt you. Heck, he never wanted to kill anybody, he was known as the « reluctant killer ». His mind was broken down by the Entity, tortured beyond recognition, destroyed and reshaped into a vicious predator because he was a pacifist. A pacifist that snapped at the horrible truth that broke out in the most fucked up way. Ever since it happened, he never stopped thinking of that fateful day, the day when he found out that he'd never be the same ever again. The memories haunted him if the constant static didn't numb his mind. That static that filled his mind anytime he disconnected with his body, watching from a window his limbs move in harmful intents, his steps following others' tracking them down. It was easier this way, he figured. Numbing out senses, dissociating. That was the only way for him to accept the tragedy that happened and his eternal punishment.

 

It was until you came in and awoke him, blew away the clouds that surrounded his consciousness. Unlike others that managed to arouse amusement or irritation with their lack of experience or boldness, your... Your pure soul intrigued him. He felt connected to you in a certain way. You were a pacifist. Just like him. You were selfless.

 

That side of you first intrigued him, then made him angry. Nobody deserved your kindness. Nobody deserved your sacrifices.

 

And it's how he longed for your survival, even if it was him the one bringing death upon you. He hoped to see another trick from you, to be surprised like he happened to be before. He'd smile to himself anytime you managed to make him miss a hit, and grimace every time your blood spilled as you failed. That's how he prayed for you to leave at the end of the trial and not try to get that person off that hook. That's how he pleaded internally for you to escape his grip as he marched towards one of the sacrificial hooks.

That's how he watched you die on the hook with a tug at his heart.

 

He wanted survivors to survive. He wanted you to survive.

 

Hearing your cries anytime you'd get hurt or killed was something he came to fear. He could manage with the others, especially the toxic shitheads... But you... It was always too much to take.

 

But he had to keep on doing the job. He had to if he didn't want to suffer the consequences again.

 

It was getting harder when you'd try and befriend him sometimes, doing weird stuff that could be easily misinterpreted if you didn't wear the right expression or space the gestures long enough. Of course you'd try that, killers and survivors weren't supposed to talk within trials. And even if they could, the Wraith would never be able to.

He was so tempted to respond to your friendly gestures. The thought of helping you crossed his mind but...

 

 

It was against the rules.

 

 

First time you tried, he hurt you.

 

A second time you tried, he hooked you.

 

Third time you tried, he killed you.

 

 

It was unfair. It was horribly unfair. The look in your eyes was unbearable and you were right : it was horrible. But you should know better than befriend a killer, right ?

 

… Right... ?

 

You didn't try for a long while to befriend him. Long enough for him to think that you learned your lesson and would go back to your own act. At first, the monster was glad seeing you bolt as soon as you realized that he spotted you, and at the same time, it pulled at some strings. It was meant to be... Come on, Philip, this life was meant to be...

 

Before he realized it, he killed everyone except you. You were weeping on his shoulder when he marched towards that hatch and dropped your limp form there.

The Entity had enough sacrifices for today, at least the killer thought so when he met your glistening eyes filled with pain and wonder before you jumped in the misty pit.

 

Next time you were facing the Wraith, he stood there at a safe distance from the gen you were working on and uncloaked. You both exchanged a long glance when you noticed his odd behavior consisting of just remaining there tilting his head. You knew he recognized you, and he knew it as well. You reproduced the gestures you did in the past and he nodded. He watched your shoulders relax and a smile creep up on your features when you understood he was friendly.

And that's how he watched you peacefully work on that gen. That's how that being followed you around the map fixing the four others like a shadow while the other survivors were messing around as soon they understood they were safe around their killer of the day. It was strange seeing everyone smile, laugh and taunt each other in his presence, while all you did was gesturing at him to follow you to try and get some things done together. Everyone had rewards for their efforts at the end of trials, so it was fair to give him his as well. The Entity fed on Despair and Hope, on acts of kindness and violence... So the survivors had to accept spilling their blood for the killer... Which he refused and only accepted to break pallets around or chase a few towards the Exit Gates and gesture them to get out.

At the limit of the Exit, where a black wall would rise if the killer approached the border, you turned around to face him. You gestured him to follow you. Surely you didn't know that he couldn't. It was _your_ exit. Not his. He shook his head in response.

He tilted his head again as he watched you kneeling down in silence, staring back at him with that warm smile he grew fond of even in your most tragic endings.

 

You were thanking him.

 

His heart fluttered in his chest.

 

The Wraith nodded in return, acknowledging your gratitude before you ran off.

 

It had been a long time since he felt so light-hearted. The sensation of his chest feeling wide, bubbling with fuzzy feelings was so foreign to him and still, he relished in them, enjoyed it all. Smiling to himself, the Wraith was happy with his actions. He knew it was the best thing he ever did.

 

And while your running form was vanishing in the misty land, something grabbed his shoulders from behind and threw him backwards... No... It wasn't a throw, it felt more like something was pulling him backwards. The sound that took over his hearing wasn't only the friction of the air against his ears, it was much, much worse. The blood-curling, drummy, ambiant sound that was ever so present in the realms that people mistook as the wind was in fact the Entity manifesting. And at this moment, it was manifesting for him, the low growl made his chest tremble in the vibrations, and if he still had hair, it'd certainly be standing up. Immediately he knew what was happening, the threat imminent and the next second as he saw his body fly feet away from the Exit Gate, a sharp pain shot up in his left shoulder, tearing an inhuman scream out of him.

 

Broken memories flashed in his eyes, a sick reminder of the pain he endured a long, long time ago.

 

Looking down at his shoulder, he realized it was a hook that he was impaled on. His stomach, if he still had it, twisted in fright. The beast didn't have time to allow the shooting pain subdue that a sound above his head caught his attention ; a sound he was way too familiar with, the one that is triggered anytime the Entity was summoned and ready to get its due. Just in time, he managed to block the pointy appendage lunging at his heart in both hands. His heart that was pounding strongly in his ribcage in terror.

 

At this very moment, the Killer was trying to survive.

 

Fighting, holding onto dear life hopelessly while the blood pouring from his wound pooled at his feet, although he could graze the grass with his toes only barely, he couldn't quite get a solid ground... He was between Life and Death, and at this moment, he could taste what he served to his victims for so long.

 

It was horrible. It was fucking horrible.

 

The fact that he was staring at this claw trying to pierce through his chest was frightening enough and the sounds of the Entity forcing its way onto him all around his form weren't helping with his panic.

 

Memories of survivors on these hooks fighting back the Entity's hand flashed in his eyes.

 

Memories of you on these hooks fighting back the Entity's hand flashed in his eyes.

 

He still remembered your face scrunching in effort to stay alive. He still remembered the hopelessness in your eyes as your strength ran low.

 

So this was what you must have felt...

 

His arms trembling in effort were sore, nerves burning through his arms and shoulders. His breath was getting short and ragged with exhaustion. He wanted a rest, he wanted a break.

 

At the moment his hands let go, he knew that saving you...

 

Was the worst thing he ever did.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He made a mistake.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a while since you saw that Wraith after that strange yet pleasant encounter. Throughout your journey, you learned how he functioned, his faculties, his patterns. And you didn't know what gave you the idea you could befriend him... Maybe  it was because of the way he tilted his head whenever he'd stop in his track as if figuring out what to do next, looking ever so innocent like a puppy with those big shiny eyes on his pokerface...

And that time where you actually got to interact with him other than in fights and chases made you so happy you spent the rest of your night with a smile.

 

Though... You never saw him again after that one day where he actually helped you escape a trial.

 

It's like he had vanished, leaving the rest of the Killer crew to massacre you all and to tell the truth, you hated The Shape, the Nightmare and the Clown the most. They were way too present these last weeks. There weren't many times where you actually made it out safe and sound, even less alive.

You ignored if it was because you sucked at surviving or if it was just bad luck. You managed to get better at hiding but some days, you'd still get spotted right at the start and get chased down, camped, tunnelled, slugged even to death. It appeared that Killers couldn't keep up with survivors' progress and would come up with the shittiest techniques with the shittiest talents to try and gain some control over the gen rushes and the impending victory of the little, harmless humans.

It always drove you mad. The imbalance was surreal, and any day you faced a bunch of those... Boosted Killers, you'd come out bitter and worn out. All this useless, endless pain, the repeated cycle of death, it was too much at once. You could barely handle it before, but at least you had some comfort in seeing your companions escape while you were left behind, but now ?? Your sacrifices were in vain. They'd die either way because the Hillbilly would rather not rely on his skills and chainsaw to properly down someone and use some special perks offered by the Entity to make his job even easier. Man, what a lazy cunt.

 

In the comforting light and sizzles of the campfire, you were resting, sitting against the lying log used like a makeshift bench, surrounded by your fellow survivors that either weren't taken to trials yet or returned from one. You had a very rough day... If rough days meant dying over and over again. You didn't want to go back and the Entity must have heard your inner prayers.

Your shoulder was still aching from the repetitive abuse it went through and you didn't dare think about your back. It was hard not to, though. The traumas of the violence and death that they inflicted on you kept replaying inside your head, reviving the pain in your now closed wounds.

 

What in the world, you thought. Why were you here ? Why couldn't you just go back home ?

 

« You were taken by the Entity » someone told you once. Was Jake the one who said that ? « It takes people from the world we know into its realm ; young and old, it doesn't matter. We try to escape but there is no real way out ; just trials... »

 

The words that he said once lingered in the back of your mind, enough to block out the voices of your fellow friends around you.

You loved your friends, every one of them. Everyone had their own personality and talents, and what gave you most of the Hope you were holding onto was how they taught each other their techniques and perks, how they'd team up and help each other survive. Even if sometimes there were conflicts in the group, everyone would apologize at some point and move on. With time you became a whole huge family, everyone cared for each other. Bill had a father figure to you, Ace was the cool uncle guy, and you identified a lot more like cool siblings, best friends or even people you'd look up to. There were definitively clans around and it felt like each one of the people you knew had found their rightful place here.

 

Everyone was just so special.

 

Huddled between Claudette and Jake known as the peaceful spirits of the pack, you were driven off to sleep. You sure deserved the comfort of your friends' closeness and the warmth of the fire. Kate sitting across the campfire was playing some guitar, a lovely smile on her face as she tapped her heel in rhythm. She was a beautiful artist that inspired you so much for having the magic to soothe your nerves with her enchanting music.

You didn't have a lot and you knew how to cherish what you had.

 

 

 

You stirred at the shouts that rang in the night. Your limbs were aching with exhaustion, sore from the extreme sport you did these last days and still you turned over while fighting your eyes open to look at what was going on. Beside the frantic shadows of your companions pacing around, you noticed the full moon reigning over your place, but it wasn't the fact that it was so big and bright, no. It was red. And that wasn't the only strange thing you'd notice. There was an overall horrible, putrid smell and looking around, you noticed these glowing, horrifying flowers that grew overnight... If you could call an everlasting night an overnight.

Your people were completely panicked at this event and it wasn't helping waking up in the middle of it. Your groggy senses weren't prepared to this nonsense, and as painful as it was, you got up to try and gather some information.

 

It appeared that the Entity prepared something special for the People of the Fog, at least if it was something the Entity had control over and not a natural phenomenon in Its realm. It was the first time your friends experienced it as they told you.

 

The next trials, your team figured out that there was something they could do with the putrid nectar that came out of these... So called Visceral Cankers. That's what these strange, smelly flowers contained at their centre, that thing you'd pour out with the help of a vial. And that's how you saw the first Killers coming, covered in that shiny liquid. They were far more aggressive ever since the Putrid Serum mutated them... You wondered for a moment if that was hurting them.

 

Silly you, yes it did. That disgusting liquid leaked out of their face, mouth, nose, eyes, it was in their blood and you couldn't begin to imagine what kind of sensation it gave to those who were infected with it. And whoever stabbed them in the back with a syringe full of that Putrid Serum was a sick fuck, and so far nobody in your circle had ever shared that idea or experience of doing such a thing...

 

So... You came to wonder who did this.... or if there were more survivors you didn't know about, lost somewhere in that realm.

 

This world was endless yet so small, you and your pals realized it long ago seeing that your steps would lead nowhere but woods to find your way back at the beginning, which consisted of a clearing with a campfire in the middle of it. It was your solace place with no predator to be seen, your safe haven. Maybe there was a parallel realm where the Killers had the same shitty settlement as Survivors ? That's the kind of question you'd ask yourself at nights when you couldn't sleep.

What's the purpose of this world, why were these Killers here, why were you even here ?? Did you happen to die and get stuck in the Purgatory if you had to give Religion a shot ? Your last memories were a blur, you couldn't recall the last thing you did before arriving there.

Thinking back of the scary event, you didn't know what was the purpose of these Visceral Cankers. Your crew started collecting the Nectar without knowing what it did... Hopefully you'll know about it later. Like everything in this twisted game, you could find some use to it. You could give offerings to spawn more of these freaky flowers and... From what you had seen, Killers collected them too. So many questions flew by your head. Did they know what to do about that shiny stuff ?

 

This twisted game kept going for two weeks then as strangely as they sprouted, the flowers wilted and died twice as fast within a day. After that, there was no more sign of that terrifying abomination you could see at the treeline. Some stipulated that it was the Entity lurking there... But you doubted it. It wouldn't show Itself like this all of a sudden and just... stay here while It'd be vulnerable. Especially when you expected the Entity to be even bigger than this world, to be able to hold that realm inside Its hand and do whatever It pleased with you. You were Its toys, Its food. You couldn't expect It to appear one day because It felt like it on a bloodmoon.

 

Laying down in the grass with your head resting on Jake's belly as you watched the starry sky together, it was all you kept thinking about. You were way too interested in that filled Vial that you held above your face to take part in the star gazing, preferring the lovely amber light it emanated to the shiny dots in the void. Maybe you could use these as a light source or something...

 

« Hey, dude. » you called absentmindedly. You sensed a slight shift in Jake's position that indicated that you had his attention.

« Yeah ? »

« Do you think the Killers will remain like they are... Or is there a chance they can go back to how they were before ? »

 

That question seemed like a puzzle to him. He remained silent as he thought about it.

 

« I dunno, really. » He finally replied, eyes locked on the sky. « The Cankers are gone, maybe the mutated Killers will either find their original form or find a cure if that was the reason why they were harvesting. » His tone changed after that, and you felt him moving again as he looked down at you. You didn't need to see his smug smile to acknowledge it. « Why, do you find them too hard now ? » You pinched his ribs in response and he squirmed.

« As if ! » You retorted with a smile. « It's just...That the mutated ones are much more aggressive and I feared that it was that... That thing we extracted that made them suffer and act so desperately... » You finished on a sadder tone, your eyes still glued on that Vial you held and turned around to watch the shimmer of its content.

 

There was a silence between the both of you. Jake looked concerned when you checked up on him.

 

« Why do you care ? » He spoke out.

« I don't know... » You replied after you searched for an answer in vain, eyes lost elsewhere. « I... guess I just do. » The man's sigh lasted as long as he patted your head affectionally in defeat.

« You and your kindness, I swear... »

« I mean... We don't know anything about these killers ! » You pleaded. « Some of them don't even have the will to kill sometimes, and they gladly help you escape. Maybe some of them were trapped here just like us and forced to do these... These things... »

 

The memories of the meat hook piercing your shoulder and the weapons slicing your back emerged in your mind, and you shivered in dread in queue. Jake must have sensed it because he immediately draped his arm over you for comfort.

 

« I guess there are things we'll never know... » He said softly. « Best is just not to think too much about it. Besides, we're their preys. We can't have the luxury to pity our own murderers, can we ? » You looked down and shrugged with a heavy heart. What kind of person would you be to give a Killer reasons for their crimes ?

« I guess you're right, yeah... »

 

Your bestfriend kept petting your head for a while in an attempt to soothe the sorrow that was showing its ugly face.

 

« It'll be alright as long as we all have each other's back. » Jake whispered with his hand still on your scalp. « Come on now, it has been a long night. You should probably get some sleep. » You couldn't agree more. It's only now that he mentioned it that your eyes felt heavy and were begging for some mercy.

« Okay then... Wake me up if anything happens. » He smiled in return at this answer.

« Sure, will do. Night, pal. »

«  Goodnight, my boy. »

 

And lying there with the calm spirit and the strange nightlight against your chest, you were fast asleep.

 


	3. Chapter 3

He saw you.

 

It has been so long since he last saw you.

 

You were waiting with the other humans. A man with black hair and a coat was watching over you as you slept peacefully next to another much, much older man enjoying someone's music around the campfire with a cigarette at his mouth.

 

Was it because his heart was ripped out that his chest felt so empty and lifeless ?

 

There was a time where he had feelings, conflicted feelings whenever he had to attend a trial, especially if you were taking part of it. Fear, excitement, apprehension... Now he was hollow.

 

Hollow and broken. Last time that the Entity had been heavily disappointed in his unwillingness to kill, It paid him a terrible visit. His whole body hurt with the fire coursing his veins and dripping from the hole that took place at the centre of his chest, merging with his blood as thorns and branches emerged from there, exposing his spine at the same occasion. His skin peeled just like a tree's trunk at his extremities.... he didn't look remotely like a human anymore. The last thing that still kept him apart from the other Killers was that he never wanted to kill. That he ached and cried as he did so until the damage was too big that dissociation was his only coping mechanism.

 

The Entity killed the last bit of Hope he had.

 

 

Maybe it was better this way.

 

 

The mist took over him and the Survivors. When it dissipated, the first thing he noted was the thick fog, the familiar smell of rain and moist vegetation. He looked around to realize he was at The Huntress' living place. Red Forest, a lovely place to hunt to say the least.

Now, where to find the Survivors.

 

Splitty splatter, humans run in puddles.

 

The first thing he noticed when he found you was your shocked expression. Not because he found you, or maybe a little, but it's the fact you looked him up from head to toes that he understood that it's been a long while since you faced each other. You've never got to see what happened to him and for a couple of seconds, your expression changed. You looked at his face, a face you couldn't recognize because he had been disfigured by the mutation, with such sadness in your gaze. The pit in his stomach felt deeper.

 

Were you feeling sorry ? Were you pitying him ?

 

You gestured at him with a strained, sad smile. Of course you'd try to befriend him again. What did he expect from you.

Poor, shining bright soul. Why can't you just be like the others and run away screaming bloody murder.

 

The look you gave him when he hit you across the torso left him emotionless. Now, that was the look he was expected to see : the look of pain and betrayal, salty water brimming at your eyes as you looked up at him again, your hands holding the wound where blood was pouring from, tainting the grass and mud with a deep red. Now that's a Forest that held its name.

That's how the first chase started, but got cut rather short after you dropped a pallet on his head then blinded him for what he felt like forever. He tried to track you down but the puddles of blood were quickly washed away by the rain.

 

And that's when the first generator popped.

 

The Cowgirl was hard to catch, but not as much as a veteran that could get himself up if left down for too long. There again, you've been there to make his job harder, so he escaped.

You didn't change. Even after all this time, you didn't change at all. Still stubborn, still sickly altruistic and self-destructive. He caught you because you didn't want him to hurt your companion, and you were paying the price.

 

You're so stupid.

 

Long minutes passed, gens were done as he chased one after another. Someone managed to save you and after a rather short chase, he caught the Warrior again. There was no escape for him this time.

He wasn't the first to die though. The Cowgirl did. She tried to play it cocky like you, trying to dance with the Wraith that didn't like being taunted nor blinded that much. He mercilessly tunnelled her and chased the Warrior when he tried to come to her rescue. There was no time to borrow when you were a Killer. Fuck him.

Two gens left. Three Survivors. Two of you had no more chances, another could use another save... If he did it quickly, maybe even slugged the weaklings, he would win. The Entity would be pleased. He would be rewarded. He'd return home tonight.

 

He noticed after all this time he disappeared that you started learning sick tricks to confuse him even more than before, starting by doing 360s. Even though you failed a bunch of them, you still managed to make him lose your tracks for a couple of seconds when you succeeded. Also, dropping pallets in the weirdest and unexpected manner possible that'd result getting him stunned was a new thing. You also started to use flashlights. Fuck the Cowgirl for bringing that bloody flashlight, his n°1 enemy.

Though while he was looking around in hope to find you in those ridiculous hiding places like in the good old times, an explosion caught his attention.

The Warrior must have been tired after all that chase, stress and blood loss, because he was caught rather quickly a fourth time. Checking around, the Wraith saw your shocked face in the distance.

 

You wanted to save him, didn't you.

 

The monster picked up the old man and like a vulgar sack of potatoes, carried him on his shoulder. The old bag started to fight back as soon as he did so and no matter how fast you were running towards him to try and block him or do a pallet save, he was already heading towards the closest hook and hung the unlucky and exhausted victim.

 

Another gen popped at the same moment the Warrior's Soul was taken away.

 

The Killer turned around where he last saw you. You were gone, leaving behind already fading tracks. He tried to find you around again, even checking lockers because he noticed how quick and quiet you were in this trial... which was a real waste of time.

 

There were just two of you now for one generator. It should be easy. There were just three generators to check and damage but like the sneaky little fuckers you were, he couldn't find you for the life of him. And if he did, your loops were intense enough to make him freak out and go and check for the other human that'd be gen rushing him. Which happened, but unfortunately for the Quiet One, the Wraith wouldn't let him open the furthest Exit Gate.

 

Blood splattered on the rocks and trees, as the Quiet One fell in silence. You were nowhere to be seen so the Killer figured that you split up to open both of the Exit Gates in case something went wrong. He could see the pattern from miles away. And he knew who you were. He knew that you wouldn't let your friend die.

So he picked the victim up and carried him to a secluded meat hook while on the lookout for a wild angel to descend from heaven and tear his offering out of his claws. He heard in the distance the alarm going off as you succeeded in opening the Exit Gate. It was rather close so he cloaked and went far enough to hide in the mist. He saw you running breathless in the direction of the hooked victim as you knew his strength was running low, the echo of a ringing bell resonated right behind you announcing the hunter's reappearance. You didn't care, you didn't fear your death, he knew it.

 

And that's how he appeared behind you as you began rescuing the Quiet One, and hit you square in the head and making your body splash in a puddle of bloodied water nearby.

 

No One Escapes Death.

 

You whimpered and winced in pain before you slowly took support on your forearms to look above your shoulder at your companion, only to realize in horror you didn't manage to free him.

 

He saw the color drain out of your face and your eyes fill up with horrified tears.

 

You started crawling towards your friend, desperate for the save. You were whimpering in the mix of your bloods and both were staring at each other with the same sorry look of misery while you tried to reach out for him again, even though you knew you couldn't touch anything expect for a foot maybe.

 

You were the Savior. A helpless, hopeless Savior that couldn't rescue a single soul. You were turning towards the Killer, pleading him with your eyes to trade your life with his.

 

It was painful to watch. The wide hole in the Killer's chest started aching again. No... He had to resist. Stay emotionless, you're just doing your job Philip, don't feel for them. You know where it led you last time...

 

No, stop looking at him with those eyes. Stop crying. Stop...

 

He promised himself to kill you mercilessly even if it was by his hands, he told himself he didn't need you, he didn't need your victory nor your blood, he didn't need your kindness, nobody needed it, nobody deserved it not even the Entity of them all !

 

But he couldn't help that dreadful, horrifying feeling of need running up his spine, pooling at his guts, flooding his mind and burning his muscles.

 

You were too pure for this forsaken world. A true light, a sunshine in a world where only the moon reigned. And like any light in this world, like any spark... it's always stomped out. This thought was unbearable, for he used to have a light too.

 

There was no place for them to exist. Grace is just weakness or so he had been told.

 

And though he had to sacrifice you, he couldn't bring himself to do that now that he had the chance.

 

Kill them, kill them, the little voice said in the back of his head. You were the reason why he had been tortured again, he had to do it to show his devotion for the Entity, to please It, to avoid Its wrath again, to prove he was loyal !

 

But as much as the voice tried to convince him, he still froze in place with that tug of war that took place in his brain. His hands crept up at his face and he started to scratch, hoping to break these toxic thoughts out of his mind. He wanted them gone, he wanted you gone or-

 

« Do you want them ? » a voice whispered in his ear, pulling him out of his existential crisis.

 

The beast's hands dropped and he listened, suddenly interested in what the Entity had to say. He looked down at your form still bleeding out at the Quiet One's feet for a moment before looking away as if focusing on someone else, but it was just that voice in his head.

 

« You've been good, even better than before offering me all these sacrifices lately » It cooed. « I'm pleased to see you're finally cooperative, little Wraith. Perhaps we can find an arrangement for your rewards. I can smell your desire and it's not bloodlust. Tell me what you want, Killer. »

 

The Wraith's gaze landed on you and remained there. There was a silence, only balanced with the hooked man's audible struggles.

 

« … Of course. Why am I not surprised. » A short silence. « If that is your wish... They're all yours. »

 

He didn't need to be told twice for he approached in a solid pace and grabbed his due's ankle. From the whimpers you went to screams when you realized you were being dragged away from your friend that threw you a desperate, panicked glance, clawing at the wet ground trying to stop him from taking you away.

Only to see your most precious friend being pierced through his ribcage and ascend.

 

The Wraith could sense your Light fading in defeat. He could sense your Hope dying in his hand as he dragged your lifeless form towards the shack. The monster took a moment to stop in his track, pick you up and instead of carrying you on his shoulder, he was holding you like a doll against his hollow chest, and you weren't fighting. Maybe the blood loss was another reason why you were losing your will to fight.

 

Such a precious treasure couldn't stay and suffer much longer, he thought.

 

And this treasure was his now.

 

Still holding you close, the Killer covered your wet eyes with his hand, blinding you as the shack you were both in started to crumble, letting you fall in the strange misty pit. The sound that was overtaking you was frightening, you heard it so many times when you were sacrificed and it was everywhere, around you, within you, within your ears, within your head and it was still scary. With his arm still firmly locked around you, the Wraith smiled to himself while the mist took over your forms.

 

There was no more escape.

 

You were his, and only his.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the angsty ride fellas


End file.
